Shadow and Light
by Jessi D
Summary: Second rewrite. A Bhaalspawn wanders lost in the Underdark, his soul gone. A drow fightermage is close to breaking point in the city of Ust Natha. This is their story. SolaufeinPC fic. Shounen ai.
1. Chapter I

**Jessi:** **I do not own these characters, but Uriel is mine :)**

Some people will be wondering what happened to my old version of _Shadow and Light_. Well, I felt I had written myself into a hole and I kept thinking up bits from Uriel's and Solaufein's past that I felt needed to be put down on paper (metaphorically speaking of course).

So now I invite you to enjoy the new version, set just after Uriel's arrival in the Underdark...

* * *

_The glass distorted the faces on the other side of Uriel's prison, but there was no mistaking them: Bodhi, the vampire cooing to him through the glass; Yoshimo, the bounty hunter who avoided looking at the imprisoned elf and of course..._

_"Irenicus!" Uriel pounded on the wall, his hands curled up into fists, "Coward!" he growled, "Kisama o koroso!" he'd switched to elvish without even realising. _

_"Such language!" Bodhi giggled, baring her fangs in a wide grin._

_Irenicus said nothing but reached out..._

_His hand closed about Uriel, the frosty blue eyes now twin suns burning malevolently in his masked face. The sun elf struggled but the mage's grip tightened, crushing his arms against his sides and the curse that had been making its way to the Bhaalspawn's lips turned into a chocked scream. _

_"It'll all be over soon," Uriel's vision darkened and the last thing he saw were those inhuman eyes._

* * *

Uriel cried out as he awoke. His body and the blankets of the small bed were soaked in sweat, strands of his red hair sticking to his forehead and back. Beneath his long fingers he could feel his heart hammering away. He scanned the room for threats. 

To the left of him was Minsc, sleeping in two beds that had been shoved together. The ranger was sprawled out on his blankets, snoring loudly, blissfully unaware. The sun elf's keen eyes could see Boo, the supposed giant minature space hamster, curled up on the pillow, next to Minsc's shaved head.

Opposite Uriel's bed was Edwin, lying on his stomach, his head hidden beneath a thick pillow, to muffle Minsc's snoring. He muttered something in Thayvian and shifted slightly.

The elf knew that in the next room were the other three members of his party: Jaheira, Viconia and Imoen, probaly all sleeping soundly, undisturbed by nightmares of blood and...

He shivered. Ever since Irenicus had taken his soul he'd... felt so hollow.

But he had no time for this... he had to lead his party, his friends through the Underdark, keep them safe. His fists clenched, he would not lose any of them!

He'd failed before and for Khalid and Dynaheir... They had not left Irenicus' dungeon. At least he'd been able to save Imoen. But even that had been too late to save her soul.

* * *

Imoen smoothed her bright pink locks down as she emerged from her room. She ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm them... She always seemed to be cold these days. The young thief-mage was about to turn back to get her cloak when a flash of red caught her eye. 

Her brother, Uriel, was standing at the railing, looking down at the tiny deep gnome settlement. He was fully dressed, even wearing his half-plate armour.

She stood next to him, reconizing the despair on his face... and knew exactly what he was feeling. She patted his arm, and their eyes met, each offering the other silent comfort.

* * *

In the drow outpost of Ust Natha, the drow fighter-mage Solaufein headed back towards the Male Fighter's Guild. His dark-grey eyes were cold and hard and his hands never strayed far from the flail and the longsword on his narrow hips. 

Any drow would have thought him just ordinary, a skilled fighter and a compotent mage to be sure, but what else would they think? An enemy? An ally? A potential bed-mate with the sharp, attractivly angled planes of his face, which resembled that of a fallen angel once he removed the golden headband and let his fringe fall in front of his eyes? Perhaps.

Of those three possibilties only one was certain: enemy.

Gods willing, he would take a blade to every Spider-Kisser here and be done with it. Even capture would be better than this...

Every day was the same... plots and intrigue, spun tighter than Lloth's webs and death dealth to others by his hands. Even when he was let off his leash and allowed to roam the city there still was a stifling routine to his life: eat, sleep, spar, study, making himself stronger for the use in the schemes of the priestesses.

Even his old form of release, the lust chambers of the tavern, where both males and females were avaliable for the right price (though he not taken a female to his bed ever since... her), was wearing thin...

Solaufein was close to breaking.

* * *

**Jessi:** Sorry to any Japanese people who were offended by Uriel's "elvish". Bascially it means: I'll kill you f--ker 


	2. Chapter II

**Jessi:** Happy birthday to me! I'm seventeen today :)

* * *

"What would Gorion say?" muttered Uriel as he looked down at his hands. Instead of his familiar golden skin he saw the glossy ebony colour of a dark elf. Examining himself in Edwin's mirror ("borrowed" by Imoen) he saw that the change extended even to his clothes and hair, his white shirt now turned black with faint spider-web designs and his hair pure white. He was relieved to see that at least his eyes remained the same, the red-gold standing out against his new dark skin.

"You don't look too different Uriel. Just like someone spilt ink on you… a lot of ink," Imoen's change was more dramatic, her sweet face now more angular and her ears pointed. The elven paladin could still make out her features if he concentrated hard enough. Then again he wouldn't have to, unless Ust Natha had drow with shockingly pink hair.

The young thief-mage noticed Uriel's stare and patted the top of her head, grinning widely,

"I asked Adalon to leave it like this. Can you believe that she wanted to change it to white?"

The sun elf emphatically nodded, ducking as Imoen playfully swiped at his head. He was smiling too; the hair could only be a sign that Imoen was getting better.

As Imoen bounded away, Edwin's mirror still in hand, Uriel sat down, crossing his legs. Uncertainly, he reached inside his armour, pulling out a flat disc on a length of red cord. On it was a symbol, a pair of scales, perfectly balanced on a hammer.

He wrapped it around his hand, clenching it in his fist. His eyes closed,

_Balance. Balance in the darkness. Like the scales of Tyr, the things weighing down upon my heart are balanced. Tyr, help me to bring forth justice, to correct the balance of the world. Tyr, hear my-_

But then the darkness reared up again, engulfing the elf.

_Ah! _he shrieked, the sound muffled by the darkness of Bhaal. _Tyr help me. TYR SAVE ME!_

But there was no answer, just a wave of sweeping silence just as it had been every other time he'd try to pray.

_TYR!_

Uriel's eyes snapped open and he screamed, flinging his holy symbol across the floor.

* * *

Solaufein gritted his teeth as the healing potion began its work, the long wound on his leg stinging as it closed. Another dab of the liquid eliminated any trace of the wound, leaving only smooth ebony skin in its place.

He stood, examing one long leg then the other. Statisfied that no other wound remained (any cut no matter how small could have come from a posioned weapon) he crossed the wet floor of his private bath gracefully, taking fresh clothes from the low bench.

Dressed in loose clothing he padded back into his room, his fingers checking the lock and the wards that were in placed on the door. Next he cast a True Sight spell and checked the room, even down to the wardrobe and the bath he'd just vacated.

Finally he unlocked a small chest, even more heavily warded than the door had been.

From its depths the fighter-mage took out a small, well-loved book, made of many different parchment sheets cut roughly the same size.

He settled down on his bed and opened a page at random. The words of surface poets stared back at him, the graceful script of the drow tongue along with the stark letters of Undercommon speaking of worlds far above this one. Words that the translators probaly never had seen...

At least he had glimpsed that strange alien world... and he'd taken something back.

His dark fingers touched the flesh over his heart and thought of a goddess with silver hair.

* * *

"Remember, you are Veldrin just arrived from the city of Ched Nassad," Aladon's eyes narrowed dangerously then, "And don't you _dare _delay. Every hour that my eggs remain in the city means that much more danger to them. "

"You have my solomn word that they be returned safe and sound, my Lady," Uriel bowed to the silver dragon, his hair brushing the floor. He tossed it over his shoulder and smiled, "On my honour as a black-hearted drow warrior."

As they turned to leave Uriel caught sight of his symbol of Tyr lying on the stones. He paused, staring down at the round disc. With a swift kick he sent it skittering off into the shadows.

The former paladin headed for Ust Natha.


	3. Chapter III

**Jessi:** A delayed chapter because I caught the flu. Damn you Winter!

* * *

Solaufein entered the tavern, the angry expression on his face making the rest of the patrons hurriedly drop their gazes to their drinks. The fighter-mage barely noticed, focused on his new task... however much it galled him.

Find some mercenaries! What was he? A recruitment officer?

Cheers and catcalls came from the arena. There was an unusually large crowd today...

The dark elf drew closer, finding a clear vantage point by climbing onto an empty table and stepping from that into a small alcove set into the wall.

Down in the pit were two figures, one female, a priestess from the clerical robes and the immense spider that adorned her shield, and the other male. This one wore red half-plate armour, but Solaufein's eyes were drawn to the weapon he was using. It was an immense sword, almost as long as its wielder. Entwined carvings ran down the blade and the hilt was elaborate and made from a shimmering golden metal.

It looked much too awkward to use, especially compared to his own two weapons or to the flail and shield that the priestess in the pit was using.

* * *

The priestess was armed with a flail and she struck out with it. Uriel dodged nimbly, the wicked spikes passing just a hair's-breath from his head. His strike missed the female who danced backwards, chanting. It was a spell, of course.

A glowing circle came into being to the left of the former paladin, the radiance taking on a shape that was becoming increasingly familiar the more time the disguised elf spent here. In seconds Uriel now had two opponents to worry about, the drow priestess and a massive black spider.

Backing off he kept both of them were he could see them, his blade held out in front of him to deflect any incoming attacks. In it came quickly, the spider launching itself at Uriel.

Quickly he moved his sword so that all the spider succeeded in doing was wrapping itself around the blade. Blood seeped out from the joint of its legs where it was holding onto the blade. Its ugly, many-eyed face glared at the disguised elf, the claws at its mouth clicking malevolently. In response Uriel struck with his gauntleted fist, the hairy flesh yielding with every blow. Yet the spider hung on, its extra weight dragging the sword down. The priestess gave a soft, light chuckle that only added to her sinisterness.

That chuckle swiftly turning into an furious shriek as the former paladin's dagger, an emergency weapon kept on his belt, embedded itself into the spider's head. The creature gave of a high-pitched wail, falling to the floor, where its legs twitched and spasmed before it died.

Uriel grinned, both hands on the hilt of his weapon and he raised it to bring it down onto the priestess...

Grey strands shot from her hands. They fastened to his limbs, freezing them into place. Thick, sticky cables wound themselves around his body. A web spell!

From her belt the dark elf female took a dagger of her own, shaped like a spider, the legs curving down to form the blade.

"Lloth accept the heart of this male! Drag his screaming soul down to the Demonweb Pits for daring to strike down-"

The immense blade of the disguised elf abruptly glowed. To the sensitive eyes of the dark elves, it was brighter than the sun at noon. Screaming, the priestess scrambled backwards, clutching her eyes. She didn't move fast enough.

Carsomyr's sharp edge tore through the drow's body, the plate mail she wore barely halting it. Uriel sheathed the sword, his skin still carrying a slight glow from the Dispel Magic ability of his weapon.

* * *

A little while later, the disguised elf sat at the bar, Carsomyr laid out on the counter in front of him and a glass of golden liquid in his hand. He took a sip of liquor as he studied the blade.

It had been preying on his mind all day but... he was no longer a paladin of Tyr. Surprisingly it didn't upset him much, though he supposed this could be an effect of the alcohol.

What puzzled him was how he could still use the Holy Avenger sword, Carsomyr. The sun elf stared at the elaborate carvings on the blade as if searching for answers there.

The Bhaalspawn had just decided on finishing his drink and retiring to his room when a smooth voice spoke to him from his right,

"I saw you fight in the arena."

Uriel turned slightly in his seat, his eyes widening slightly.

Ooo! He's lovely! The former paladin sipped his drink, simultaneously reminding himself that, as beautiful as the other male was, he was still a drow. His traitorous brain ignored him in favour of noticing the smooth, supple skin of the stranger's neck visible above the collar of his shirt.

"Do you want an autograph?" Good effort on not drooling Uriel, he thought to himself.

A snort escaped the dark elf,

"Don't flatter yourself," he tossed his hair over one shoulder absently, "You are part of the party from Ched Nassad."

Uriel nodded, and was about to introduce himself when the stranger continued,

"Tomorrow you will meet myself and a handmaiden at the entrance plaza. I suggest you prepare yourself for combat," with that he began to stalk off through the crowd.

"And if I want to find you before then?" the words were out of Uriel's mouth before he could stop them.

The dark elf turned looking at him curiously then he spoke,

"Ask at the Male Fighter's Guild. My name is Solaufein."


	4. Chapter IV

**Jessi: **Just a note about this story: I'm not doing a direct novelization of the Solaufein mod. I might use a few ideas from it but mostly everything will be written by me :) Anything I use will be mentioned in the disclaimer.

* * *

Imoen swung the pillow, bringing it down onto the head of Uriel. The only response was a muffled grunt and a dark hand emerging from beneath the quilts to gesture rudely at the pink-haired thief.

She rolled her eyes and leapt onto the wide bed, bouncing up and down. A groan rose from the elf huddled underneath the covers but he tried bravely to ignore the thief. At long last, after several moments of this torture, Uriel crawled slowly out from the warm hollow he'd made.

One glance at her brother's glare told Imoen that she'd be best off investigating breakfast. With the satisfaction of a job well done and a burst of early morning energy she jumped halfway across the room and ran out into the corridor, a cheery grin on her face.

The sun elf sighed and fell back onto the pillows, trying to bring back his sweet dreams. Another sigh escaped him when he realized that he was fully awake.

As he pulled out some clothing from his pack he thought about those same dreams. He didn't understand why the grey-eyes drow from last night had haunted them so.

"He's a total stranger Uriel," he said, shoving his foot firmly into his boot for emphasis, "He'll give you the mission and the reward and that'll be the last you see of him."

* * *

Solaufein massaged his temples, wincing. The way to the devourer's city was short, merely a five minute journey from the drow city. Yet less than half-way through he was already developing a splitting headache.

He turned towards the source of his headache, putting on his harshest glare. Unfortunately, the two arguing stragglers were completely ignoring him in favour of screaming at each other in the most oddly accented Drow he'd ever heard. It didn't help that both of them were considerably taller than he was. He looked from one to the other, trying to decide whether to deal with the shaven-headed one or the mage first.

"It's really best to let it stop on its own," Veldrin, the leader of the Ched Nasad party, gave a long-suffering sigh and sat down heavily on a nearby rock, "How long do we have until the mind flayers come?"

"One hour."

"Plenty of time."

Solaufein took another glance at Minsc and Edwin then settled down next to Uriel, keeping one hand on his sword hilt. The disguised sun elf began checking Carsomyr, making sure that the blade was ready for use.

Unknown to the Bhaalspawn, a certain fighter-mage was using the opportunity to get a closer look.

True to his upbringing, Solaufein assessed the danger the younger one could pose. The way he handled his massive double-handed blade spoke of experience. His armour, realized Solaufein with a jolt, was made of red dragon scales. The deep crimson colour of the half-plate went nicely with his glossy ebony skin as did the white shirt he wore beneath it.

Solaufein continued his observations. The other male's face was delicate, even pretty. With the long white hair that hung down his back and partly concealed his face he could easily be mistaken for a female.

Two loud slaps drew the drow's attention away from the pretty male. One of the Ched Nasad females, the one with the braided hair, had stopped the fight by slapping them both with the flat of her sheathed scimitar.

The younger male smiled in relief and Solaufein was not the only one who saw him mouth a silent thanks to Jaheira.

* * *

Uriel held Carsomyr at the ready, both of his hands curled around the hilt. His eyes scanned the dark landscape constantly, watching for the first sign of mind flayers. Something hissed to his right and he spun around quickly.

It was only the trailing edge of Edwin's cloak and the sun elf lowered his blade, resting his chin on the pommel stone. The movement caused his hair to fall forward across his face, concealing it in a thick white curtain. It was something that had always made him feel better, ever since he was a child, though he'd never been able to give a reason for it.

"It is done," Solaufein got up from his cross-legged position, setting down a tiny statue. It crackled with magical sparks as it drew the mind flayers out of the astral plane.

Uriel flicked his waist-length hair behind his back, readying Carsomyr once again. Various rasps of steel echoed through the cavern as his companions drew their own weapons.

There was a screech from Solaufein's statue and abruptly the illithids were amongst them.

Minsc let out a howl and charged the nearest foe, a massive umberhulk. The two mages, Edwin and Imoen sent two volleys of Magic Missiles into a mind flayer.

Abruptly pain seized Uriel, turning the blood in his veins into fire. As he sank to the floor all he could hear was that cold methodical voice in his ear,

_Awaken godchild. It is time for more... experiments. _


	5. Chapter V

**Jessi:** I haven't updated this story since _March_? I'm sorry everyone, I just got weighed down with my AS levels and the death of my old computer Bastard-san. I'm so sorry! Please be sparing with the vengeance…

---

Uriel moaned, pain flaring across faded scars. In an instance he was far beneath the Promenade, locked away in an iron cage, his thin body shuddering and weak from sickness and infection. A noise came from the shadows in front of him, a noise he recognized as soft footsteps. His hand rose as if he could fend of his captor or shield himself from harm with that tiny, weak motion.

"…No…" something cold crept along his cheek and the Bhaalspawn realised that the pain would soon begin again, "No! Please, oh please no!" he scrambled back, the bars of his cage pressing against his back, "Irencius! Please… no more," a whimper escaped his throat.

Abruptly there was a high screech the bypassed his ears and instead voiced itself directly into his brain. Irenicus' dungeon faded from his sight and he found himself back in the Underdark and staring into the blank orbs of an illithid.

Its tentacles fell away from his face as a longsword tore through its midsection. It shrieked again and fell backwards, hands reaching up to the wound. Solaufein finished it off with a quick stab through the throat.

"Pay attention, boy!" snapped the drow, "I'm not here to baby you!" the fighter-mage leapt away, his skin turning grey and as hard as granite as he chanted under his breath.

His cheeks burning, Uriel seized Carsomyr, plunging it into the chest of an Umberhulk. Tearing it out sideways he ran to assist Viconia who was fending off another with her mace while chanting one of her own spells.

Imoen cast a haste spell and Uriel's movements quickened as he slashed through tough chitin with his sword. A fireball from Edwin caused a bright flash that stung his eyes after so long in the gloom of the Underdark. Shaking his head to clear the white flashes from his vision Uriel caught a glimpse of movement from across the battlefield.

He frowned. It had only been a brief flash, something that he could have easily imagined… but something told him that it wasn't.

He turned and charged towards the place. He slashed out at two Umberhulks and an illithid as he past, everything a blur under the effects of the haste spell.

He ran past Solaufein who spun away from his opponent elegantly, slashing out as he did so, and followed Uriel's movements, snowy brows furrowing down sharply. The drow opened his mouth but what ever he said, be it reprimand or spell, went unheard.

He charge brought him to the edge of the battlefield which dropped sharply away towards another path. Walking along it were a mismatched pair of creatures.

One was a drow, a female drow. She was dressed in exquisite clerical robes, the black cloth adorned with a complex pattern of spider webs. She, thought Uriel, must be the priestess they'd been sent to find. He eyes, however, were blank and she walked stiffly like a clockwork toy, far from the silky, cat-like grace the sun elf had come to expect from dark elves.

She must have been under the control of the illithid that walked slightly behind her.

They were passing beneath the spot where Uriel was crouching, just six feet below him. Silently the sun elf leapt down, ready to strike as soon as he landed.

Abruptly he flew backwards, Carsomyr flying from his hands.

The illithid lowered its hand, stalking towards Uriel. The sun elf angrily flicked his hair out of the way and snatched up Carsomyr. Though he'd thought it incapable of a creature with a squid-like head he could have swore that it was smirking.

Another mental attack came at him and this time Uriel fell to his knees and screamed. He could feel the illithid in his head. Random memories flashed before his eyes as mind flayer dug deeper and deeper… A cold chuckle came from the monster as it broke the final barrier in its way.

There was… nothing… nothing but cold darkness before the illithid. It was confused: was this some form of mental defence? It reached out again…

Now it was the illithid screaming as the darkness, the Bhaal essence within Uriel rose up against it.

---

Solaufein still kept his sword and his flail in his hands, even though the illithids and Umberhulks lay dead around his feet. He was planning to use these weapons on the coward Veldrin.

He stalked across the battlefield, towards the soft noises coming from the base of a small cliff… but what he saw shocked even the hardened drow warrior.

An illithid was on its knees making gurgling noises, its tentacles waving feebly, trying to grip the wrist of an armoured dark elf. The hand at the end of that wrist was clamped around the throat of the mind flayer. Veldrin looked up; just as the mind flayer became silent and limp.

His eyes were different, flickering between sulphur yellow and blood red. A feral grin spread slowly across his face, revealing teeth that, for a moment looked much too long and pointed.

"Uri- Veldrin!" the pink-haired female darted forward, her bow still in one hand and an arrow in the other. Solaufein quickly scanned the rest of the Ched Nassad party, seeing that they all were clutching weapons or had hands raised ready for casting.

Veldrin focused slowly on the female mage, swaying slightly still with the worrying grin on his face, as though he had not decided what to do with her. Then, after seemingly hours, he blinked in confusion and slowly shook his head from side-to-side. When his eyes opened they were once again that unusual red-gold colour.

"What in the name of-" before Solaufein could finish his question there was a soft groan and a drow female came into view. Instantly the drow fighter-mage was at her side, "_Yathrin_, are you-"

He knew the blow was coming and readied himself for it. The back of an armoured gauntlet met his cheek, the strike enhanced by a strength spell which sent him to his knees. His hearing faded, leaving only a ringing in his ears, which alarmed the fighter-mage but that effect lasted only for a few seconds.

"- be time to replace you perhaps? With someone younger and worthier of the task. Would you like that Solaufein?" Phaere leant closer, thankfully unaware that he'd missed the first part of her conversation. She pulled his head up so that he had no choice but to look up at her face, "Or would you prefer to serve me?"

Solaufein knew what was expected of him,

"No, _yathrin_, I wish to serve you."

"Of course," she let him go but not before he saw the cruel smirk on her face, "It would be such a pity to send you to the temple, wouldn't it? To face the tentacle rods again?" she stalked off with a lingering look at Veldrin.

Solaufein looked up to see that most of Ched Nassad party were looking away checking their equipment or staring off into the Underdark. Veldrin met his gaze for a briefly, some strange emotion in his eyes, before his hair fell over his face, once more.

He got to his feet the second Phaere had past from his sight and spat blood from a cut on the inside of his mouth,

"Do you think," his voice regaining some of its strength and arrogance, "that you could possibly make your way back if I'm not here to lead you by the hand"

The red-armoured drow looked up again, his eyes harding as he curtly nodded, but Solaufein was already on his way, running on silent feet after Phaere.

---

Uriel sighed, pushing a trembling hand through his hair. He'd known and had been warned on many occasions by both Adalon and Viconia that drow society was infinitely harsher than the surface one. But still to see something like that… He felt a deep pang of sympathy for the grey-eyed drow.

"You can't change anything Uriel, no matter how much you want to," Jaheira looked up from wiping her blade on an illithid's robe. Uriel said nothing and she frowned slightly, "Uriel? Are you listening to-"

The sun elf groaned, his hands coming up to clutch as his head. He made no more noise as he collapsed onto the floor, Carsomyr falling from his grasp.

---

**Jessi:** Writing interaction between Phaere and Solaufein is hard without Baldur's Gate 2 anymore. If anyone has any tips on how to write Phaere and how the two speak to one another I'd appreciate it.

**Yathrin** priestess


	6. Chapter VI

**Jessi:** This chapter has actual interaction between characters this time… I hope they're all in character. If you spot anything wrong please leave a review telling me so. Then again if I do it right, then by all means tell me.

A happy author is a prolific one.

---

Uriel made a face as Jaheira held out the glass towards him. He recognized the dark grey liquid as one of the druid's herbal potions and recoiled slightly from it, remembering the last time he'd been treated with it. On the other side of the tavern room Imoen watched her brother and the half-elf stare each other down,

"Uriel," Jaheira spoke first, sitting on the bed so she faced the disguised sun elf, "you'll need your strength, especially if you insist on completing these tasks for that Handmaiden," she brought the glass closer to Uriel's face, frowning slightly as he wrinkled his nose and edged away.

"It'll just make me sicker," muttered the Bhaalspawn darkly, bringing the quilts that covered his lap up over his nose, "It tastes disgusting."

"It helped with your fainting fits after Irenicus' dungeon. Now if you would just stop behaving like a spoiled child we can bring these ones under control and we wouldn't have to carry you back after every battle!"

Uriel glowered up at her, his eyes flashing red for a brief second,

"I'm sorry Jaheira, that Irenicus saw it fit to tear my _soul_ out!" he lay down in his bed, turning away to face the wall, "Now leave me alone!" he snapped.

The druid turned away, unwilling, or perhaps unable to persuade an uncharacteristically angry Uriel, and stalked out of the room. Imoen lingered for a moment more,

"Uriel-"

"Please Immy," the sun elf interrupted her, his voice faint and sad, "leave me alone."

He heard the light footsteps of the thief leave the room. Uriel buried himself deeper into the soft quilts, suddenly feeling very much alone.

---

Uriel must have fallen asleep because the next thing he realised he was being poked in the side repeatedly.

"Go 'way," he mumbled sleepily into his pillow.

"Hmm… typical," the sun elf's assailant jabbed him again in the ribs, "Stop this and get up you lazy excuse for a Bhaalspawn. I cannot abide this sulking mood of yours (not that your usual irritating cheerfulness is any better mind you)."

Uriel pulled the blanket down a little to expose one eye. A drow stood by his bed, scowling down at him. Edwin was easy to recognise though, he'd kept his scarlet robes, the circlet round his head and his long nails in his transformation.

"Hey Eddie," some of the cheerfulness did seep back into his voice as the Red Wizard twitched at the mention of his nickname, "Wha' you want?"

"Eloquent as always I see," came the thickly-accented reply, "If you must know the collection of rejects you call an adventuring party bore me," he took something from under his arm and tossed it onto the bed, "Entertain me."

Uriel recognized the object as a chessboard, hinged in the middle so as to double up as a compartment for the pieces. Like most things carried by adventures it was worn and slightly battered and there was a dull brown stain on one corner, blood from some random monster.

He was at least a competent chess player (Gorion had taught him when he was young) but he'd only beaten Edwin once and that was when the wizard had been drunk enough to bet a year's service on the outcome of the game.

"Fine," he sat up, leaning back against the headboard as the conjurer set up the board, "Do you have anything to drink?"

"The druid left you one of her most appetizing concoctions over there," Edwin gestured towards the side table, on which the grey potion rested. The elf's response was to sigh,

"Something alcoholic… please?"

Edwin raised one eyebrow elegantly but pulled out a bottle and a glass from the bag of holding hidden in his sleeve. Uriel took them both with mumbled thanks, filled the glass to the brim and drained it in one smooth motion.

"That's good dwarven brandy, you damn simian (if only you would continue drinking like a woman as well as looking like one)!"

Uriel poured another glass, glaring at the conjurer,

"You're one to talk _Edwina_!"

As he drank his second glass Edwin wondered if it had been (not a _wrong_ decision surely, for he was Edwin Odesseiron after all) but perhaps a slightly less wise decision to give him the brandy. The Bhaalspawn's retort had been spoken with actual venom behind it this time.

The Red wizard decided then to keep a close watch on the elf tonight. He'd hate to lose someone who on occasion was capable of intelligent conversation and twenty minutes of chess.

---

Unfortunately for Edwin the chess match didn't give him many opportunities to watch Uriel's drinking, the elf seemed to know he was watching him so drank while the Thayvan was planning his next move, so it came as a surprise when the sun elf suddenly grabbed his arm.

"Y'know Eddie…" the Bhaalspawn's speech was slurred and he swayed slightly away from the support of the headboard. Beneath the strands of his hair one of his eyes seemed to flash sulphur yellow for a moment. The Red Wizard ran through a mental list of the spells he had memorised before dinner, his fingers curling behind his back, ready to cast.

Uriel lifted his head, a wide smile on his face, which at the same time was utterly disturbing,

"Are you frightened of me?"

The mage blinked in surprise,

"You seem to forget that I am Edwin Odesseiron, Master of the Arcane Arts, and you are a paladin (thankfully without the shiny armour)."

The sun elf giggled,

"Not anymore," he flicked his hair behind him, revealing eyes that were flickering between yellow and red, "Not anymore," he repeated, this time focusing on his hands, the fingernails that were lengthening and the skin that was steadily developing scales.

It was then that Edwin hit him with a Power Word: Stun.


	7. Chapter VII

**Jessi:** This story has over one thousand hits! It beats my other current story; even though it has twenty-nine chapters compared to _Shadow and Light_'s seven… Maybe _Baldur's Gate_ fans are starved for shounen-ai? There are only two in the whole category after all (including this one). Doesn't anyone else want to write any? No?

It seems that I managed to portray Edwin to everyone's satisfaction last chapter: he is my favorite NPC after all. Let's see how I do with the rest of them.

* * *

Uriel eased his eyes open, immediately regretting it. It hurt his head to look at the light and he whimpered, burying himself under the quilts. Moving was also a bad idea, he discovered and clamped a hand over his mouth as a wave of nausea hit him.

He lay perfectly still; appreciating the warm, quiet darkness… until someone tore the blankets from him.

"Well, aren't you a sorry sight?" came the voice of Jaheira above him, "What were you thinking drinking that much?"

Uriel eased one eye open a crack. There was a bottle sitting on the low bedside table, now only a quarter full. He rolled onto his back, preparing to explain, calmly and rationally, to the druid exactly why he'd drunk that much,

"Ngh," was all that he could manage.

Above him Jaheria rolled her eyes and pressed a small vial up against his lips. The sun elf gulped it down, voicing a disappointed mummer when no more liquid was fore-coming. The drink tasted pleasantly of almonds and at once the Bhaalspawn felt his nausea leave. The pounding in his head was also gone.

He sat up, looking up at the druid to give her a radiant smile, but was met still with her frown.

"I'm sorry Jaheira," he croaked, his throat dry, "I didn't- I didn't realize that I'd drunk so much!" his eyes widened and his face slipped into a innocent expression – something he had learn from having Imoen as his friend most his life. The druid remained unmoved,

"It seems that you had a confession to make while you were drunk."

Uriel froze, feeling his heart beating frantically against his ribs. No! No! He hadn't told them… had he? His left arm suddenly developed a dull ache.

"Why did you keep this secret Uriel?" the sun elf dug his fingers into the sheets, not wanting to close his eyes as all he could see were memories of pain. Somewhere far away Jaheira continued,

"Why didn't you tell us that you weren't a paladin anymore?"

The words filtered slowly down to the Bhaalspawn. Relief flooded through the sun elf, though he fought to keep himself from showing it.

"Do you realize how dangerous it could have been? What if one of us needed healing and they were depending on you for it?" the half-elf tossed her hair over one shoulder, "Uriel," this time her voice was soft, "What happened? You kept your faith after Irenicus. Why did you…"

"It wasn't my choice Jaheria. Tyr didn't want me anymore," Uriel played with a strand of white hair, missing its former colour, "It's fine though."

"Fine?" the druid was taken aback, her hands clasping together, "How can it be _fine_?" an incredulous expression showed on her face.

"I can't explain it myself. But…" he reached over to where Carsomyr leant against the wall. With slightly more difficulty than usual – the Holy Avenger seemed to weigh at least ten more pounds – he pulled it into his lap. He drew it so that only a handful of inches cleared the scabbard, his hand resting easily on the grip, "Carsomyr, it seems, isn't done with me yet."

* * *

The sun elf began lacing up his boot, flicking his hair behind his back. His fingers were trembling and he abandoned his task to run his hands together.

Uriel thought about how close he'd come – what he could have confessed instead. Images flashed through his mind of his party's reactions, the disgust and the confusion, the disapproval and the revulsion. But most of all he felt the isolation, the loneliness he would feel he would feel when there was no one left to stand between him and the terrible darkness of his blood.

"You'll have to tell them sooner or later," Imoen leant against the doorframe, her hands rubbing her arms. The ebony skin of her disguise had faded to grey beneath her eyes and her exhaustion was beginning to creep into her voice, "It's alright Uriel. It's not that big a deal," when her brother didn't answer she continued, "I mean, you're our leader. Whether you like men or-"

Uriel's head whipped up,

"_Immy_!" he glanced around, even though they were the only two in the room, "Suppose someone hears you!"

"I didn't care and neither did Gorion."

"But," the former paladin's voice was so faint now, "suppose what t-they said was true. What if _that_ happens again?" he rested one hand on his left arm, lost in his recollections.

Since the age of sixteen Uriel, the elven ward of Gorion knew that he liked men. While it was true that elves often had relationships with both sexes, women still had no attraction to the young red head.

He confessed this to his best, and indeed only friend Imoen but told no one else.

However, a couple of months later, Uriel developed a crush, a small thing, common among adolescents of all species. Eventually he plucked up the courage to confess his feelings.

But that innocent deed was a very big mistake.

By his confession Uriel, already teased for his feminine looks, his long red hair and his orphan background, gave his tormentors their greatest weapon yet.

The bullying grew worse until one day they cornered the sun elf and beaten him. They'd been about to start pulling out his hair in handfuls when they were interrupted by Gorion lead to the scene by Imoen.

Bruised, battered and clutching his broken left arm to his chest, Uriel flung himself at Gorion and told him everything, sobbing all the while.

What relief it had been to find two people who accepted him, the two people he loved the most.

But there had been so many who had not. Among those had been his instructors as he trained to be a paladin and with their message drilled into his head day after day, the sun elf had given up.

It was very lonely, especially at night when he awoke from terrible nightmares of blood and death. As he lay there in the darkness he longed for someone to hold him and comfort him.

But there was no one and he would wait for the dawn alone.

Always alone.


End file.
